ReMOval

Friends and family of Mo mourn his recent passing. Mo suffered one close shave too many. He leaves behind a stiff upper lip and a tear in the eye. Mo will be remembered for his important contribution to the cause of men’s health.

Sea Eagle

In a quiet moment

Between classes

I look out the window

Of my 5^th storey classroom

And see a sea eagle

Circling.

Not effortless; rather,

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A spring wound up.

A poised potential that

Could release itself at any

Time to plunge into the

Tree canopy below.

...

I’m reminded of

A moment in childhood.

Looking out the window

Of the family car.

Speed and dust and the

Momentum of passing trees.

Beside the road

A rabbit came into view

And, in the same moment,

A Wedge Tail, glorious
And terrifying,

Plunged into the frame.

What I saw

Was like a photograph:

Rabbit,

Eagle,

Framed by a window.

Gone.

...

I wonder, now as I watch 

This new bird circling, 

What he sees?

Is his world just a rhythm

Of trees punctuated by 

Irregular kills?

Or, occasionally,
Does he look
Through windows

And catch glimpses
Of something profound
and glorious?

Telling stories

Image from Wikimedia commons

The first film I directed starred Emmy Award winner Guy Pearce. To be fair, my friends Ben and Phil might also have some claim to the role of director but it was my Dad's camera, so I have always felt entitled to take credit. We shot the film in Super 8 in the back yard of my family home. Apart from Guy, this epic also starred our aging family dog, an overweight, corgi-beagle cross with limited mobility and no obedience training.

The film was called "Killer Dog" and followed the complex relationship between man and dog as it was developed over the 2 minutes shooting time that our pocket money allowed. Guy ran from the dog. The dog chased him (after a fashion). Close shot of the dog salivating. Wide shot of dog attacking Guy. Close shot of Guy on the ground with arm buried in a hole we had dug in the lawn (mother not impressed). Further close shot of previous night's roast lamb shank protruding from Guy's sleeve with considerable quantities of tomato sauce. Sound track taken from "Jaws". Film ends.

I was thinking about the film this week during training sessions with Jerry Maraia from Columbia University Teachers' College. Jerry spent the week skilling us up on Reader's Workshop techniques and helping us think about the effective teaching of reading and writing in our Middle School English classes.

One key technique in "Workshop" is the use of a "teaching point" and one key professional practice is the development of these teaching points. My students, I feel, often struggle with knowing where to begin and end their writing. Once started, their stories sometimes feel like a runaway train that will run on endlessly giving the reader no sense that they will ever be able to get off.

As kids, our early attempts at film-making taught us a useful lesson about shaping stories. The cost of film reels meant that we had only a few minutes to play with and editing was a difficult process that literally involved cutting and pasting strips of film together. The cost and effort involved meant that we spent a lot of time thinking about what we wanted our final film to look like. Planning was careful and we needed a clear and dramatic story.

"See it like a movie in your head" is a common piece of advice teachers give young writers. But it also helpful to think of that movie as shot in Super 8 - short and requiring some careful thought before you begin.

And one last piece of advice I could give: it's helpful if you can get Guy Pearce to act your main role because he provides a great hook into your writing.

(If you happen to read this, Guy, the film may still be in the cupboard at my parent's place and you'd be welcome to it)

Singapore

The bus

Singapore Ian Tymms

On a school excursion
to "The Cement Works"
Drove down the
Sides of an open-cut
Mine to the
Bottom
Where we found ancient
Shark's teeth.

Now I live in a
Concrete tower looking
Down on the trees and
Earth below.
Cranes on every horizon
Are emblems
Of a desire to rise
Above the complex
History of this
Place.

But there are still
Shark's teeth in the walls.

Glasnost

Most of my posts to-date have focused on blogging and teaching. This post takes a very different direction; it’s the potatoes to add a little variety to my overly meat-rich diet.

The United World College movement has just turned 50. The power and pervasiveness of Kurt Hahn’s original vision constantly surprises me as it finds expression in unexpected places. One recent voice to contribute to this conversation is Mikhail Gorbachev, a figure who, in my mind, stands in significance with the likes of fellow Nobel Prize winner Nelson Mandela and Mahatma Ghandi for the positive impact he has made on 20^th Century politics. It is thus humbling and surprising to find Gorbachev taking the time to address the UWC community directly.

In his letter to the UWC movement, Gorbachev writes:

Dear friends,

Please accept my congratulations on the

occasion of the 50th anniversary of United

World Colleges. During the years of its existence

your movement has been able to considerably

influence several generations of students from

many countries in a spirit of mutual respect,

peace and sustainable development. Today, this

mission is as important as ever.

In today’s world, old threats to peace are

persisting and new ones are emerging.

The current economic crisis, the crisis of

international relations and the threat of a new

http://www.flickr.com/photos/osipovva/5498928857

arms race testify to the fact that the twenty

years after the end of the Cold War have been

largely wasted instead of being used to build a

more secure and just world order.

The economy of many countries is in deep

crisis. One of the causes of this crisis is the

model that has defined global development for

the past few decades, a model based on seeking

superprofits and overconsumption, on social and

environmental irresponsibility, making the

human being merely a cog in an economic machine.

I am convinced that a transition to a new model

is inevitable. But this requires joint efforts of the

scientific and academic community. I therefore

applaud the vigorous efforts of your movement

to support the right to peace, social justice

and sustainable development and stand up

against injustice and inequality. It is particularly

important that your students and alumni take

this stand not merely in rhetoric but by working

actively in various humanitarian, educational

and environmental projects on all continents,

thus showing an example of engagement and

civic responsibility.

I find this letter sobering. The last twenty years, he tells us, ‘have been largely wasted’. We have not build a ‘more secure and just world’ but instead have focussed on ‘superprofits and overconsumption, on social and environmental irresponsibility, making the human being merely a cog in an economic machine.’

As I sit here in Singapore, an employee of UWCSEA, it is hard not to take this analysis to heart. This is a wealthy country where Mercedes and BMWs are big, black and ubiquitous. There seems sometimes to be something a little inadequate in a lunchtime bake-sale which raises a few hundred dollars for a worthy cause when each of us live a lifestyle built, literally, on the cheap labour of imported workers.

What Gorbachev reminds me is that my footprint on the earth is real and I must always look carefully to see where I am treading. The UWC mission walks a precarious line as we both rely on the ‘economic machine’ for the resources that allow us to exist and simultaneously explore and question its workings. The social responsibility one has in a position of privilege requires significant and difficult reflection.

Gorbachev himself provides a good lesson in the value of working carefully from within ‘the machine’. His reform agenda for the Soviet Union through “perestroika” resulted in the dissolution of the USSR and the birth of modern Europe. The central tenant of that movement was the notion of “glasnost”, or “openness”, and it is this idea that I think has particular resonance with the UWC movement. Kurt Hahn’s belief was that if you could put people from different cultures together and educate them as equals, they would emerge from their schools with a greater potential to create a just and peaceful world. I think he would have liked the idea of glasnost.

Finding a line in shifting sands

Thoughts, like water, are essential to sustaining life but they are similarly difficult to shape. Writers must always struggle with the possibility - no the probability - that the texts they pour their ideas into will take a different shape in the minds of their readers. For me, as a writer, this is my greatest struggle: to find forms for my ideas which have enough structure and integrity to sustain their approximate shape as they pass into the minds of others.

The significance of this struggle has been foremost in my mind as I have reflected on whether to publish the post I wrote last week.

What I wrote responds to the sentiments of Mikhail Gorbachev published last month in a letter ofcongratulations (p.26) to the United World College movement on the occasion of the movement’s 50^th anniversary. Gorbachev writes about how little he feels has been achieved since the end of the cold war; he argues that, instead of striving to make the world a better place, the last twenty years has seen a focus on ‘superprofits and overconsumption, on social and environmental irresponsibility, making the human being merely a cog in an economic machine.’ In my post I paid tribute to Gorbachev as a man of integrity and vision and I wrote about the incongruities of the affluence that supports the UWC movement and the challenges that Gorbachev believes face the world.

Because I work for one of the United World Colleges (UWCSEA) my own position on this issue is complex. The UWC mission statement says that, “UWC makes education a force to unite people, nations and cultures for peace and a sustainable future,” and so a part of my job is to prepare students to critically engage with the world as they strive to improve it. But I also work in Singapore and so when I signed my work contract, I agreed that I would not comment publically about the Singapore Government. My lifestyle, my affluence, my students’ lives and the affluence that is necessary to the very existence of my school is predicated on the economic miracle that is Singapore and Gorbachev is asking some challenging questions about the economic foundations of this system. It is difficult to ask these questions without also reflecting on the economic values of the city in which we live and there is a risk, as I explore Gorbachev’s writing, that I could find myself being critical of the government here in Singapore.

I am overstating the problem of my own post but I am doing so because I have a further point to make. What I wrote is not critical of the Singaporean Government nor would I want it to be. I don’t know exactly where the line is in the sand that I must not cross, but I am experienced and aware enough to know roughly where it is and to stay carefully at a distance. My real worry about my post is that it is written – like this post – largely for my students and I don’t know that this line is as easily discerned by them.

And this is the real challenge that I wish to raise: how do my students, who are by definition young and learning about the world, explore and challenge the status quo without the risk of crossing lines? What is my responsibility as a teacher in regard to inviting enquiry but protecting my students from crossing into territory where they should not go? Should my students’ blogs be public and thus allow a meaningful engagement with the world, or private and there-by remove much of the risk but also much of the engagement? If I am not standing beside my students when they enter the online world, am I leaving them to enter it alone and without guidance?

The complexities of these challenges were highlighted by the recent transgressions of an Australian/Malaysian woman here in Singapore. Amy Cheong wrote a ‘Facebook post railing over the noise from a Malay wedding being held in a void deck near her home, which was filled with expletives and insults about the community’ (The Strait Times October 13, p. D4). Within 24 hours, Cheong had been sacked by her employer and left Singapore.

The media discussion around Ms Cheong's treatment has been extensive. Whether the response was proportionate is not my concern in this post. What I would like to note is that Ms Cheong was tertiary educated, 37 years old and professionally employed by the National Trades Union Congress. She should have known where to find the line.

When I write about issues of economics or social justice, so should I. But when I do so, I tacitly open this possibility for my students, too, and I can’t expect them to be as able when reading the nuances of the world. That is why I am writing this post: to remind my students that the writing they do in their blogs (and in their private lives on Facebook) is real and can have real consequences. This is powerful and something to be embraced, but, as they experiment in the sandpit of the internet, it is important that my students are constantly thinking about where the line might be.

In the Saturday Straits Times (13/10/12, p. D4), Law Professor Tan Cheng Han, chair of the Singapore Media Literacy Council (MLC), was asked to comment on the Cheong incident. As part of his article, he wrote about what the public can do to engender a better social media environment:

As in the real world, show your disapproval of anti-social behaviour. And also try to be fair-minded and courteous even in disagreement.

            After all, most people who don’t agree with you are more likely to at least see your point of view if you put it across politely.

            They may even come round to your point of view eventually, but they almost certainly won’t if you put your points across insultingly and condescendingly.

I am educating young people to make a better world: Prof Tan Cheng Han’s advice seems like a solid foundation on which to build that world. Finding an appropriate line in the sand will always require careful reading and thoughtful engagement with others and I don’t believe my students can do this from outside the sandpit. I want them engaged, active, thoughtful and respectfully changing the world. Thought and language always requires care and negotiation as ideas are passed from one mind to another. These are skills that must be taught and learned.

My advice to my students:

• ·            Think about who might read your writing and what it might mean to them.
• ·            Write respectfully.
• ·            Be productively provocative – ask questions of your world and expect that it can be better.
• ·            Strive to understand the context in which you live and write and, if you’re not sure, ask others who might understand it better.
• ·            Draft – because drafting means, amongst other things, that you will take some time between writing and publishing. It is always good to get another opinion on your writing and to reread it yourself with fresh eyes.
• ·            Remember that there can be consequences for getting it wrong – both for you, for me, for your family and for your school – but that we trust you to explore the world honestly and respectfully and we support you in doing this. I would far rather an honest mistake than a failure to try.

Community = Communication

I’ve been reading a lot about the good and the bad of blogging this week.

Jeff Plaman shared these two articles from The Atlantic: Why American students can’t write and How Self-Expression Damaged my Students. Both articles present a general position about the dangers of a learning environment in which there is too much freedom for students and too little direct instruction from teachers.

These articles are in contrast with Jeff’s own writing about our digital identity and that of my colleagues Paula Guinto and Jabiz Raisdana. If I can grossly simplify the collective position of Jeff, Paula and Jabiz, I think it is that blogs provide a space for students to explore and develop their sense of themselves as writers and that a certain amount of “freedom” is absolutely necessary for this to occur.

Central to this discussion is the concept of “freedom”. For Peg Tyre and Robert Pondiscio, the two writers from The Atlantic, freedom seems to represent an abdication of responsibility by teachers. Pondiacio argues that giving students freedom to explore their identity as writers through the “Writers Workshop” model is to ignore a more important responsibility we have as teachers: direct instruction.

…at too many schools, it's more important for a child to unburden her 10-year-old soul writing personal essays about the day she went to the hospital, dropped an ice cream cone on a sidewalk, or shopped for new sneakers. It's more important to write a "personal response" to literature than engage with the content. This is supposed to be "authentic" writing. There is nothing inherently inauthentic about research papers and English essays.

[…]

…at present, we expend too much effort trying to get children to "live the writerly life" and "develop a lifelong love of reading."

You're not going to get to any of those laudable goals without knowledge, skills, and competence. For every kid who has had his creative spark dimmed by "paint-by-numbers" writing instruction, there are almost certainly 10 more who never developed that creative spark because they grew up believing they can't write and never learned to adequately express themselves.

Whether Pondiacio’s depiction of the “Writer’s Workshop” method is accurate or not (and my own recent training in Writers Workshop would suggest not), he nonetheless represents a concern about the failure to teach “basics” which rings many chords. It takes little time surfing the net to discover waves of disgruntled writers concerned about the loss of basic skills in the education system.

As I’ve written elsewhere, this concern seems to reflect something much more pervasive than just the teaching of writing. A general concern about a lack of disciplined teaching in schools is pervasive in the popular press despite a lack of evidence to this effect. In western countries, the massive increase in participation in post-primary education over the last 50 years has lead to a concomitant increase in literacy. The population of today is without doubt more literate than that of yesterday. What this has also meant is that instead of a small group of the educated elite defining the lingua franca, there are increasingly diverse groups contributing their ideas and their voices to the discourses of power.

It seems important to me to remember that the whole project to fix language into one definable form is not only political but also very recent. The project to “fix the English language” which Samuel Johnson began 250 years ago in the writing of his dictionary, reached its apotheosis in the creation of The Oxford English Dictionary in the mid-19^th Century, a project which was not finished until early in the 20^th Century. We think of English language and grammar as being largely fixed and unchanging but they never have been and the idea that they might be fixed is essentially a modern one. Shakespeare did not have a standard spelling, grammar or lexicon and, arguably, could not have written Hamlet if he did. A freedom to play with language is at the heart of most great writing and particularly poetry.

My argument is not that I think language should be loose or that any form of communication should be fine, but rather that it is important to understand that all decisions about which words, grammar and spelling are “right” are conventions and that these conventions should and must evolve. We do need to understand the conventions of our day, but we also need to stop and ask ourselves why we want to communicate and it is this question that I think is missing from the “back to basics” agenda.

We communicate to create communities.

Language is, at its most basic level, communicative and our identities are the consequence of this communication. What I find unsettling about articles such as the two which began this post is that they almost see writing as combative; the desired outcome is to conquer, not to communicate and successful writing is that which is “better” than others. The idea of a polished prose based in a view of potential perfection is anathema to communication because communication is a negotiated medium in which meaning cannot be static.

One’s prose is important, but far more important is the connection between interlocutors and the possibility of building and evolving a better understanding of self and others. Respectful communication is first and foremost concerned with forming connections to the interlocutor – not with evaluating the status of their prose.

Which brings me back to what I think is a good blog. First and foremost it is one which communicates. Language can facilitate communication in a range of guises. At times it works best when it is well-dressed in black tie or ball gown; at other times board-shorts and “T” shirt fit better. It is absolutely the responsibility of the teacher to bring students to an understanding of what clothing will gain them easiest entrée to which venue but a far more pressing need in any society is to teach them to look for the person beneath the veneer and to truly communicate.

What I find truly inspiring in the work of my colleagues is that they are giving students the space to find themselves and each other in their writing. Part of the mission of our school is to “make education a force to unite people, nations and cultures for peace and a sustainable future”. Such an important task must begin with communication.